


christmas together.

by cl3rks



Series: love can be a hazard [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Christmas Party, F/M, Gender Inclusive, Holly - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Piers is alive, Ugly Christmas Sweaters, congrats you're married to a beefcake, lovey couple shit, piers is gay fyi, so is marco, spiked egg nog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:39:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8651467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cl3rks/pseuds/cl3rks
Summary: Finally, a Christmas together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ah shit my lazy ass is putting out a Christmas oneshot the day AFTER Thanksgiving to avoid breaking a promise i made ages ago to myself -- oh joy.
> 
> anyway, enjoy this. it's supposed to be gender inclusive but if there are ANY pronouns let me know and i'll correct that right away!!! (same goes for typos, my dudes!)
> 
> first in the series!

There's something peaceful in the air, you think, as holidays pass – especially when the weather goes from Fall to Winter weather. Thanksgiving goes first, Fall leaving soon following, then Winter starts and Christmas comes a couple days later.

It's something... nice, that you truly love this.

There's also the fact that you haven't had the chance to spend a single Christmas with Chris Redfield, your husband, because he's always out on a mission. He'll usually Skype you if he can, take a quick minute when he's not shooting people or protecting his men and wish you happy holidays from where ever in the world he happens to be at that exact moment.

He can never tell you til he gets back, by that time the misson's over so it's declassified – no point in keeping it a secret, that sort of thing. 

Last Christmas he got the chance to talk to you for a half hour. It was two in the morning where you were and ten at night where he was. You hadn't had a chance to nap earlier that day, so you were dead tired when he called. He told you to sleep, said he'd wish you “Merry Christmas” when he got back.

You told him to be quiet, to talk to you. He showed you something he'd gotten while there, it was all wrapped up – a present for you when he returned. He'd wrapped it in newspaper, claimed he'd make it fancy when he wasn't protecting it, making sure it didn't get ruined. 

You heard a couple Christmas songs in the back, the boys throwing a small Christmas party and shouting, enjoying themselves. You smiled when Piers yelled at his captain, asking him to join them – he got a quick “in a bit!” back.

You showed him the slightly bigger box you'd put his present in. It was wrapped in shiny green paper and had a big silver bow on it. 

That was the year he'd gotten you your own set of dog tags, your name and whatnot on them – the boys thought it was a good idea, considering you were just as much of a leader to them as Chris was. You'd gotten him a new knife with the engraving “knock 'em dead” on it (a little cheesy, yeah) – you'd never heard such a manly man release such a loud yell in surprise. 

But this year, oh, ho, _ho!_ You were throwing a damn Christmas party and your house was filled with different ranks of military, all of them relaxed and thankful that for once they weren't in those hot, sweaty, tight clothes. No, no – they were all either wearing nice jeans and t-shirts or ugly Christmas sweaters (upon your request) and they all had some form of hat on – reindeer jingle bell antlers, Santa hats (some fit with fake beards) or elf hats, complete with ears. 

Everyone was laughing and smiling, drinking egg nog – spiked or not – or hot chocolate or beer, whatever you had and eating whatever you put out. You were sitting on the couch, talking with Piers (who was wearing a Santa hat) about someone he'd met but hadn't wanted to bring in fear they'd be scared off. You patted his hand, told him when he was ready he could.

(His other dilemma was also the fact that the someone he'd met was another man and nobody but Chris and you knew he was gay.)

Piers stood and left you to get more egg nog when Chris took his chance and sat beside you, turning you and pulling you to sit on his lap.

“How are things, Mrs. Redfield?” He asked, looking at you seriously. You, however, couldn't return the seriousness of the look. You snorted at him, his ugly sweater staring at you. It had Rudolph on the front, a bright red light protruding from the actual sweater, and he also had on a necklace with flickering Christmas lights plus jingle-bell antlers to top it all off. “Something funny?”

“What?” You laughed softly, his eyes lighting up and the sound. “No, no – nothing's funny.” 

He leaned forward a little. “You happy?”

“Yes.” You grinned. “Happy that you're here and so is everyone else, happy that you're not covered in dirt and in some foreign country, happy that we can be together and your ugly sweater can stare at me.”

Chris laughed this time, the corner of his eyes crinkling with the movement. “I'm happy that you're happy.”

You two were silent for a moment before you actually spoke. Your voice was barely above a whisper as you leaned forward. “Merry Christmas.” You pressed your lips to his, the softness of them always surprised you – a man fighting battles rarely had time to put on chapstick.

Chris moved a little, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck for a moment before he put one hand on your leg, squeezing it gently as you pulled back for a moment to look at his eyes once he opened them. 

They were bright and big and you smiled at the deepness of them, the happiness in them.

You pressed your lips back to his in an instant.

“Hey – hey! Lovebirds, y'all ain't under any holly!” You heard Reid say, his words slightly slurred. The two of you pulled away from each other for a moment as each of Chris' men began puling stray pieces of holly off doorways and other places you happened to put them. They stood over the two of you, all gathered up and smiling wide and bright like a bunch of kids. “All better!”

“I'm regretting putting that much holly everywhere.” You muttered, your cheeks heating up as Chris' smile only got bigger.

“Sounds like a 'you' problem.” He said, leaning forward to jab the nose of Rudolph against your chest and then kiss you, whooping and loud yells hitting the two of you the second your lips met. Chris, only for a moment, broke away to whisper against your lips. His voice was just as soft as yours had been previously. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

_A Merry Christmas it truly was._


End file.
